Kathryn, leaning back against the arm of the sofa, one leg curled under her and the other on the floor, looked at me silently, knowing very well what her words intimated.
Everything about her was at once heartbreakingly familiar, but also so different from what she'd once been. It went far beyond her blonde hair and more mature face and body. The change centered most in the way she looked at people, looked at me. She'd obviously seen a lot. I wondered what her study of me revealed.
At least what was going on between us was out in the open, rather than lurking behind nearly every word we'd said all day. I could thank her for that.
Any red-blooded male should have jumped at an offer like this from such a beautiful, accomplished woman. Now that I had her in front of me, not staring out from the back of a book jacket or from the cold glass of a TV, I could not deny that Kathryn was more desirable than ever.
Eventually she turned her gaze back to the fire, drawn either by the pop of a bit of sap in the wood, or by the fact that she was now feeling embarrassed by what she'd said -- and offered.
Yet I was in a quandary. On one hand, I wanted to pull her to me, rip off her clothes and ravage her body, but at the same time what had happened to us over twenty years ago, not to mention the specter of my dead wife filled the wide chasm separating us. It was up to me to say something, but I just could not find the words.
Her eyes still fixed on the fire, Kathryn said, "Has too much water flowed over the dam?"
"Certainly a lot of water has flowed over the dam, but I can't say if it's too much."
She looked at me, her face pensive. "Is there any chance left for us, Robert?"
Now it was my turn to stare at the fire.
"I can't deny that I've thought of you over the years. There were times where I toyed with the idea of showing up at a book signing or something like that, but I could never do it, put myself in temptation's way like that. I couldn't do that to Ellen. Even though..."
"Even though what?"
I drained my snifter of cognac, then poured a bit more for each of us. Kathryn picked up hers and sat patiently looking at me.
I took another swallow, then looked at the fire again. "Ellen had a very low sex drive and she had a lot of, well, hang-ups about sex. When we met in school, she told me that she didn't believe in premarital relations, but I was so in love with her that I just accepted that. It became something we didn't talk about, but it was a contentious subject. She'd do her wifely duties willingly, but I could tell she wasn't into it most of the time. She couldn't conceive, either, and I think that was a lot of the problem.
"Of course I'd heard that from a number of girls I'd dated, but after a few times out, I generally could get them to loosen up. I soon realized it was all a front. They didn't want to appear cheap."
"They didn't want to be thought of as sluts" she corrected. "That's a hard reputation to overcome. It's the main reason I didn't come home much after what happened between us. Everyone in town knew about it in less than a week, and it follows me still, I'm sure."
I smiled. "It didn't help that you took up the line of work you did."
Kathryn's expression was phlegmatic. "I seemed destined for it, as I look back now. You might argue that I'm obsessive about it, but sex is something that is never far from my mind. Even after all this time I find it fascinating. I'm also good at helping people with their sexual problems. I can get them to talk. I can explain things to them so they not only understand, but start to accept that there are many ways to approach sexual problems. Our society never really teaches us anything about sex past the mechanics, and even that isn't done very much -- or well.
"How do was learn about sex? From our friends who know as little about it as we do. Most parents don't know much about sex. How can they find out? I've met hundreds of women who've had sex for years and weren't aware that they can have orgasms. How nuts is that? Especially in North America there is this culture of don't look, don't ask. It's very unhealthy. There also aren't many books on it, past Kinsey, Masters and Johnson—"
"And you."
"Me and Alex Comfort, okay. But let's get back to what you were saying. Cutting to the chase, you're saying that you and Ellen didn't make love much, right? How did you cope with that?"
"I detect the doctor at work," I answered fondly.
Kathryn grinned. "Well...yes. I guess I'm doing that, but I'm serious. How did you cope?"
I hesitated, then laughed out loud. "Okay. You've got me. I masturbated. A lot."
"I'll bet you did, knowing you. What did you think about?"
"The usual things, I guess."
"Naked women? Making love to a favorite celebrity? Someone you worked with?"
She was embarrassing me and she knew it. I didn't know what her purpose was, whether she was teasing, trying to draw me out, doing research or seducing me. The atmosphere in the room suddenly seemed more charged.
"I, um, thought about you a lot."
"How? Doing what?"
"Lying on that sofa in your basement, naked, and playing with yourself."
"That thought turns you on?"
"Yes."
"Would you like me to do that now?"
My throat was dry. "Yes."
Kathryn stood for a moment, then returned to her place on the sofa, but this time one leg was leaning against the back of the sofa, the other remained on the floor. She'd sat this way for me many times in the past.
She had on a lovely, knee-length floral dress, lots of colours, but mostly pastel shades. It suited her coloring perfectly. She'd lost her shoes early on, and because it was summer, her legs were bare.
Leaning further back, she closed her eyes and began running her hands over her body, starting with her chest and gradually circling in to her breasts where he pulled at her nipples. In a very short time, I could smell her arousal.
One hand drifted down her torso, then to her leg. Running it up the inside of her thigh, she also pushed the bottom of her dress up towards her waist. Her other hand was busy opening up the buttons at the top.
"I hate those dresses that zip up the back," she said in a dreamy voice. "It's so hard to be seductive in them. You can't open them without an inelegant struggle."
"You do this often, then?"
Her eyes opened and she looked at me lazily. "Not like this."
With her left hand returning to her nipples, her right disappeared into her very tiny, black panties. Her back suddenly arched and I knew she'd found her clit.
Kathryn had always liked putting on a show. It turned her on and the years had only refined her prowess. My cock was raging in my pants as I watched the outline of her fingers sliding up and down that most intimate of places.
"Oh that feels so wonderful. Mmmm... Tell me, Robby, is this what you imagined?"
"Yes," I managed to croak out.
